


Shout Out to Mis Uruguayas

by Mosca



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Banter, F/F, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosca/pseuds/Mosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosa and Amy bring a whole lot of the Nine-Nine to the inaugural meeting of NYPD Latinas Unidas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shout Out to Mis Uruguayas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandyk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/gifts).



> Many thanks to my fearless beta!

The unmarked car stank of onion rings. It was Rosa’s fault – she kept forgetting that it was car #9, not car #6, with the permanent stain of somebody’s lunch. She was sure that Amy was silently judging her for the mistake, getting ready to add it to the list of reasons why today was a bad idea. “You saw how the Captain was when he told us we had to go to this,” Rosa said. He’d told a long story about how the AAGLNYCPA had changed his life and given him strength. He’d been as close to tears as Rosa had ever seen him. He’d sniffled a little, poignantly, then briskly plucked a tissue from the box in his desk drawer to make it look like allergies. It was really important to him that Amy and Rosa unite with the NYPD Latinas Unidas.

“I know. It’s the only reason I agreed to go. I can’t let him down.” Amy bit her lip determinedly. “You’re my role model today. I’m going to sit in the back, pretend I’m too cool for this, and refuse to raise my hand.”

Rosa hadn’t completely ruled out raising her hand, especially to say something snide. But admitting that would torpedo Amy’s momentum. “I thought you liked raising your hand.”

“Not in clubs.” Amy shook her head violently, as if trying to get high school memories to stop attacking her hair. “Volunteering leads to responsibilities, and responsibilities lead to getting kicked out and permanently shunned.”

“Yeah. Just sit in the back and keep your mouth shut.” Whatever pain from childhood Amy was harboring, Rosa didn’t want to hear about it. Maybe it was a good thing the ballet academy didn’t have any extracurriculars.

“If you see my hand start to go up, punch my arm,” Amy said. “I mean it. Hard.”

Rosa parked the car behind the 67th Precinct, where the meeting was being held. She and Amy found the second-floor conference room, selected their donuts and coffee, and sat together in the back row. Several of the other women wore the pleading expressions of new kids hoping someone would be nice to them. Since Rosa had Amy to cling to, she ignored them. Finding an annoying but competent work friend was their problem, because Amy was taken.

A woman with way too much energy went up to the microphone. “Where do you even find that much hairspray?” Amy whispered. Amy’s best attempt at disengaged and sarcastic still sounded like sucking up.

“I’m Carmen Vargas from the Bronx 4-7! I want to welcome you all to the first ever meeting of NYPD Latinas Unidas!” Officer Vargas probably finished every sentence with an exclamation point.

“And there’s my answer,” Amy whispered. “The Bronx. That’s where all the hairspray is.”

“Shout out to my Boricua sisters!” Carmen exclamation pointed so loudly that the microphone fed back. A clique of over-enthusiastic women in the front waved and cheered. When the excitement died down, Carmen continued her tour of Latin America, calling out for her Dominicanas, her Mexicanas, and her Ecuadorianas. “How about my Cubanas?”

Amy lifted her fist in a half-assed solidarity bump. Rosa punched her bicep. “Hey!” Amy squealed.

“No hand raising,” Rosa whispered.

“That wasn’t a –” Amy rubbed her arm. “Fine.”

“Okay! Let’s get started! Who has some ideas for what Latinas Unidas should do in the future?!” Officer Vargas probably filled out her arrest reports in purple ink. She probably hugged people after she handcuffed them. 

“Write an agenda,” Amy whispered, her disdain more genuine this time.

One of the girls up front suggested community outreach fundraisers, and the half-dozen women who seemed interested in that kind of thing huddled near the microphone. Everyone else was sitting with their arms folded, looking put-out and undercaffeinated.

“No love for the Salvadoreñas?” one woman grumbled to no one in particular.

“Uruguay never gets a shout-out,” Rosa couldn’t resist replying. “You get over it.”

The Salvadoreña dragged her folding chair over to where Rosa and Amy were sitting. So much for their plans to remain invisible. Some kind of sixth sense drew the rest of the bored women over. Maybe they smelled blood, or maybe it was a shared hatred of exclamation points and hairspray.

A woman with short hair and freckles sat backward in her chair, resting her folded arms on the chair back. “I thought this was supposed to be a support network. Not all that bake sale bullshit.” The other women murmured agreement.

“It’s hard to have a support network in a precinct building,” Rosa said. “Somehow, even if there’s no one else around, you get a reputation for being a complainer.” Why did she keep accidentally participating? Amy was as bad of an influence on her as she was on Amy.

“We could go to McTeague’s down the street,” the woman with the freckles said. “Free beer for cops.”

“It’s ten in the morning,” Amy said. Rosa refrained from punching her because she hadn’t raised her hand before speaking.

“So it’ll be empty,” Rosa said. “And whatever coffee they have, it’ll be better than this.”

“Maybe we should at least tell the people up front?” Amy said. “It seems mean to just walk out.”

Everyone looked at Rosa in unison. Had she fallen asleep while they elected her their leader? She sighed, stomped to the front of the room, and tapped the mic. “We’re all going to McTeague’s. Everyone’s welcome. Viva Uruguay.”

After the rest of the women had filed out of the room – even the bake sale girls had apparently decided that free beer was better than reliving their glory days in high school student council – Rosa pulled Amy aside. “What’s really bothering you?”

Amy made a series of faces, like if she looked ridiculous enough, Rosa might dismiss her as an unreliable witness to her own feelings. Finally, she said, “I broke up with Teddy.” 

“Good for you. He was annoying.”

“I know, but – but – he accused me of dumping him because I like Peralta, and not because he’s annoying,” Amy said. “Which he is, and which was why.”

“ _Do_ you like Peralta?” Weirdly, that made sense. Peralta, who was the least subtle person in the NYPD to have successfully completed an undercover mission, obviously liked Amy. And aside from the fact that he was an obnoxious manchild with financial issues, Amy could have done worse.

“Yeah, but I like a lot of people. I like _you,_ for instance. But I don’t like him or you or anyone enough to mess up a relationship.” 

Rosa had tuned out halfway through. Like most people, Amy thought the wrong details were important. That was why Rosa got put in charge of task forces while Amy eagerly did extra paperwork. People like Amy were why paperwork ever got done, and she was cute in spite of this. It was her nose, maybe, or the way she could bounce down a hallway in sensible heels. 

“Want to make out?” Rosa said.

“Where – where did – why would that come from – why would you ask me that?” Amy sputtered.

“You said you liked me,” Rosa said. “And you dumped Teddy, so you don’t have a relationship to mess up.”

“I thought our trip to Boston was the worst four hours of your life.”

I was trying to get out of stakeout duty,” Rosa said. “It was only the last hour that really sucked, and that was because the chicken sandwich I bought at the rest stop gave me the runs.”

Amy scrunched her face in disgust but continued. “I thought you were going out with Captain Holt’s nephew.” 

“We’re using each other for sex,” Rosa said, “but the Captain seems happier if he thinks there’s romantic potential.” Rosa had to give Amy credit. She was getting Rosa to admit more than usual. Maybe she was a pretty good detective, after all.

Amy squared her shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed Rosa. She kissed nervously, like she didn’t know how much she was allowed to do, or like she was trying not to piss Rosa off. But that meant she wasn’t sloppy or overly grabby. It was a nice change of pace.

Rosa tugged Amy’s hair out of its ponytail, which she’d been dying to do since they’d met, and ran her fingers through it. Amy made a soft, high sound and kissed harder. “Maybe,” Amy said between kisses, “maybe we should do this in the car instead of the 67th Precinct conference room.”

That sounded sexy until Rosa realized, “No, I accidentally checked out the car that smells like onion rings. You didn’t notice?”

“Didn’t Boyle storm out with a giant can of air freshener and a gas mask to take care of that?”

“Yeah,” Rosa said. “The onion ring smell won.” Rosa kissed Amy again, pulling in her hips, not wanting her to go anywhere.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing the president of NYPD Latinas Unidas,” Amy said.

“You’re not,” Rosa said with a probably-inaudible tinge of fear.

“As soon as we get to McTeague’s, they’re going to elect you,” Amy said. “I know a club coup when I see one. Carmen Vargas and her hairspray don’t have a prayer.”

“We should go, then,” Rosa said. She tucked Amy’s loose hair fondly behind her ears. “And do this again after a couple beers.” 

“Right.” Amy nodded with a tight, eager smile. When they got outside, Amy said, “I’ve never had a rebound before. I think this will be good for me.”

Rosa nodded in vague agreement. She’d been thinking more about her presidency and less about Amy. That probably wasn’t fair, but Rosa was pleased to have something to focus her time on now that she’d broken up the Giggle Pig ring. And Amy was much better than Rosa at figuring out personal dynamics, so why not delegate?

“I think we should keep this more of a friends with benefits thing, though,” Amy continued. “With the Jake situation and the Captain Holt’s nephew situation. And working together.”

“I’m good with that.” Rosa’d had the benefits plenty of times, but never the friend. It was a nice change of pace.


End file.
